


Glitter Bomb

by PawnGhost



Series: To Court a Mortal [1]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, Romance, Sex, Smut, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawnGhost/pseuds/PawnGhost
Summary: Sarah's out with friends and she's got every intention of having a good time and going home alone. Enter Jareth.(Nothing new, I know, but it's my turn to write some humorous, angst-free smut with these two.)
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Series: To Court a Mortal [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737709
Comments: 19
Kudos: 161





	1. So

“You need to have fun, Sarah.” 

“Come out with us, Sarah.”

“You’ll never meet anyone interesting if you don’t try, Sarah.”

She loved her friends, she really did but that love did not extend to their constant meddling in her love life. And meddle they did. At first it had been not so subtle attempts to set her up with their friends, then outright inviting those friends to “study” with the group and finally, after Sarah had kindly rejected the last of what they’d had to offer, nights out on the town. If Sarah hadn’t liked any of the boyfriend material they’d provided, their logic went, maybe she’d be more interested in a chance meeting with a stranger off campus.

At least going out meant she’d only have to reject strangers, plus it was a good excuse to get out of her study sweats and dress up. Her roommate, Laura, had crowed approvingly when Sarah had strut into their living room and struck a pose, tossing her hair and sporting an exaggerated pout. The sleeveless black dress rode high on her legs but the neckline was demure by comparison, covering everything and rising to a simple black collar around her neck. Her wavy brown hair was brushed to a gorgeous sheen and left loose to hang around her bare shoulders. 

A short walk later and here she was, sitting at the bar of another in a long line of similar drinking holes in their small college town. The bartender set her beer down with a nod and she tipped it to him in thanks before swiveling around to look for her friends. They’d adopted their own little ritual on these outings, scouting for potentials and placing “secret” bets on who would be the first to figure out Sarah’s elusive “type.”

“My type,” Sarah scoffed quietly, taking another swig of her beer, “ha!” 

How the hell was she supposed to explain to them that thanks to an errant adventure in her youth, she preferred immortal glam rockers who ruled vast magical kingdoms? Also, riding crops. Ugh. 

In her defense, she’d tried her best to put the memory of mismatched eyes and glittering malice behind her. She’d even dedicated quite a bit of effort to it in her first years at college. New town, new people, new her, she’d thought. Now it was senior year and all she had to show for her efforts was a remarkable disenchantment with men. There had been kind ones, pretty ones, strong ones, intelligent ones, a little of everything for the young woman starting to suspect that her time in the Underground had permanently warped her libido. 

So, she didn’t try any more. Too many brushes with puppy dog eyes and bruised egos from men who, despite having done nothing wrong, hadn’t managed to do anything right, either. 

“I love a woman who drinks beer,” came a voice at her side, clearly going for smooth but landing just this side of drunk. 

She turned her head just enough to give him a pointedly unimpressed look and when the seconds ticked by without him moving on, she added, “And I love a man who takes a hint.”

Mumbling something about ice queens, the frat boy stalked off, clearly hoping for easier prey. Laura caught her eye across the bar and raised an eyebrow, her way of asking if Sarah wanted her to come interference. Sarah just flexed imaginary biceps back, curling and kissing her arms until Laura laughed and turned back to the young man she’d been chatting to.

If her attempts at dating over the years had been underwhelming, the handful of one night stands she’d attempted had been worse. Too many men seemed to think passion meant having sex in the nearest toilet or parked car and dirty talk peaked at grunting voices repeatedly telling her how much she was enjoying their dick. 

That didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy herself in other ways. Downing the rest of her beer, she headed for Laura, snagging her arm and pulling her to the dance floor. Of the friends she’d made since moving here for school, Laura was her absolute favorite. Small as she was feisty, the blonde was a force to be reckoned with that too many people underestimated. She was also the only friend that took Sarah’s “single but happy” relationship status at face value instead of pitying her. It had been an easy decision for both of them to move in together for their senior year.

She was also a hell of a dancer. They moved around each other with an ease that spoke to experience, slipping from sultry to silly and back. Neither missed the envious stares of the men around them and they laughed as they continued to dance, keeping just out of reach of any hands that grew too bold. 

There was a sense of power and control in being wanted but refusing to be caught and Sarah enjoyed it more than any of the halfhearted tumbles these strangers had to offer. 

As the songs blended together, their other friends drifted in and out of their company and finally, sweaty and winded, Sarah had to beg off another dance to rest. Laura’s hand lingered on hers with a promise to join her in a few minutes as she retreated back to the bar. 

Taking the only open seat, Sarah motioned to the bartender for a water. Busy as it had gotten, she was still waiting when Laura squeezed into the tiny space between her and the man to her left. 

“Hey, babe, how about you slip me some digits?” Laura husked and between her comically pitched down voice and the fact that she had to stand tiptoe on the bar’s foot rail to be eye level, it was tough to keep a straight face.

“Tempting, sir, but I’m not sure that means what you think it means.” Sarah crooned, suppressing a smile. 

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I said what I meant,” Laura quipped, wiggling two fingers suggestively, and Sarah laughed. Her water arrived then and they shared it between them. “So.”

“So.”

“So…” Clear mischief in her voice, Laura turned meaningfully to face her. “You know the deal. One night out, one detail about this mysterious stranger that ruined all men for you.”

“We haven’t been here two hours, I’d hardly call it a ‘night’ out.”

Ignoring the comment, Laura barreled ahead, “So far, I’ve got blonde, tall, singer, and heterochromia. Bless me with another piece of the puzzle.”

This was an old game between them and though Laura often let her deflect, Sarah figured she was due for another clue. It was only a matter a picking one. 

“Glitter,” she finally said.

“Glitter?”

“He was covered in it, his hair, his clothes, it was even on everything around him.” It’d taken her months to get the last of it out of her room after meeting him. “I don’t mean that I’m only attracted to guys drenched in sparkles, by the way, it just had an impact on me back then and I’ve never forgotten.”

“No, no, I get it. My first crush was some loser in a band with jolly rancher blue hair and a part of me STILL thinks it was cool.” Laura raised a hand to get the bartender’s attention. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to blow every dude with a bad dye job.”

“What about Lenny?”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Laura sniped back. “And if you want to play that particular game, I could bring up any number of messes you dated freshman year, Sarah dear.”

They bickered amiably as they ordered drinks, rehashing embarrassing old stories long enough that a seat opened for Laura. This was a comfortable routine for their nights out, frenetic dancing mixed with long conversations over mediocre drinks. Sarah felt content in a way that it was hard to with other people and it was likely the reason that the conversation turned back to Jareth by her own hand.

“He was an asshole, don’t get me wrong, but he was a charming asshole,” Sarah groaned as Laura nodded sympathetically. “And his ass. Laura, his ass! I was 15, I didn’t know jack about shit but I must have looked at it long enough because I haven’t been able to forget.”

“I hate to spoil the mood but nothing happened, right?” At Sarah’s shocked face, she raised her hands defensively. “It’s only that you make him sound older and, you know how it is.”

“No, nothing happened.” A lot happened, actually, but not in the way Laura was worried about. “And I’m glad, I know I was too young. I was intimidated by him, almost scared sometimes.”

Neither seemed to know what to say next and they sat in silence for awhile before either spoke again.

“How am I ever going to win that pool the girls have going,” the subject change was clearly an apology for the serious turn the conversation had taken and Sarah was grateful, “if I have to find a glittering sex bomb with a rock star’s voice and an ass that won’t quit?” 

“Now you know how I feel.”

“I’m not sure I want you telling me anymore about him, Sarah, or I might start looking for his twin.”

“Have I mentioned that he wore incredibly tight pants and clearly had a huge c-” Laura’s hand clapped over her mouth but did nothing to cover Sarah’s obvious delight. 

“You stop that this instant,” there was no heat behind the demand despite the hand still firmly pressed to Sarah’s lips, “or I’m going to wake up with some misguided mistake in my bed.”

Sarah’s eyes sparkled with an obvious retort but she held it back under Laura’s appraising eye and was rewarded with the hand receding from her face. 

“You ready to get back on the dance floor?”

“Mmm, I think I’m okay here for now, you go have fun,” Laura was already nodding and walking away when Sarah belatedly called after her. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“By the looks of your dress I can’t imagine that list is very long.” 

Of course. Jackasses with lines that slimy always tended to wait til a woman was alone and this one had wasted no time. The decision to tear him a new one was easy enough but it was only when she turned to retaliate that the voice behind the words fully registered. 

Sarah had always thought of herself as adaptable, quick witted even, but every word she’d ever said or learned turned to dust as she looked into mismatched eyes. 

There was a moment where she had to reconcile her memory of the ethereal King with the decidedly mortal man sitting next to her but there was no mistaking Jareth. His wild hair had been brushed back from his face and bound with an elastic band. His dove grey shirt was a simple button up, the collar neatly pressed, his cuffs unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up his forearms. 

“Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The hand he waved in front of her patronizingly was bare she was disappointed to see, it meant that this had to be real because he always wore gloves in her fantasies. 

“I’m sorry, I was trying to figure out if you’d dressed like an accountant intentionally.” She snapped, lightly slapping his hand out of her face. 

“Sorry, love, my ‘incredibly tight pants’ weren’t available,” she couldn’t help but roll her eyes as he threw her own words back at her, “but I’m happy to inform you that my huge co-”

“No! Stop right there!” To her surprise he actually did and it almost derailed her. Almost. “You do not get to show up after seven years just to prove you’ve been eavesdropping on me.”

“Would you rather I leave, then?” They both knew the answer but he wanted her to say it. To admit out loud, to his face, that she wanted him here, with her. And he’d leave if she didn’t, that much was clear in the way he patiently waited for her to swallow her pride or dismiss him. 

“Can I get either of you another drink?” 

Sarah visibly startled at the intrusion and balked when her dress seized the movement and inched up her already very bare thighs. Jareth chuckled beside her, obviously having caught her trying to surreptitiously pull the hem back into place while simultaneously answering the bartender. 

“I’ll just have another water, thank you, and my friend,” the look she shot Jareth said he was anything but, “will have?”

“A whiskey, neat.” The bartender retreated to get their drinks and Jareth settled intent eyes back on hers. “And?”

“And what?” She knew he was still expecting her to tell him to stay but it was just so damned difficult to give him the satisfaction.

“I’m not one to tarry where I’m not wanted, Sarah,” she immediately tried to tell him how ridiculously untrue that was but he stood abruptly, cutting her off, “so I guess I’ll be on my way.”

Karen called the particular strain of stubbornness that ran through her husband’s family the “Williams’ complex,” and while it had its uses, it was by and large a pain in the ass for everyone involved. It took phenomenal effort to push that pigheadedness aside but she did, grimacing. Reaching out, she touched the bare skin of Jareth’s arm with only the tips of her fingers but it was enough that he stopped and turned back to hear her.

“Firstly, you just ordered a drink and I hate whiskey.” In for a penny, in for a pound. “Second, why don’t you see if you can get us a table so that we can talk? I’ll join you once I get our order.”

The crooked grin he gave her was blinding and would have been charming if there weren’t so much blatant smugness about it. With a wink and just the hint of a bow, he walked away to secure them a place. As soon as he was out of sight, Sarah deflated.

Too much had happened far too quickly and her mind was racing to catch up. Hopefully the drinks would take long enough that she’d be able to figure out what the hell she was doing. She glanced uneasily at the bartender, willing him to work more slowly.

Start with the facts, she told herself firmly. Jareth was here. Why, she couldn’t say. She replayed the events of the night and was sure she hadn’t made any wishes or even said his name out loud. Hopefully that meant that he couldn’t try to exact some price for having shown up, seeing as she hadn’t asked it of him. She had wanted it, though. Had wanted him and still did. 

“No, Sarah, stop that,” she chided herself, “now is not the time. Focus.”

The audible thunk of two glasses being set at her elbow told her that time was up. Feeling put upon, she sighed heavily, picked up the drinks and began walking as slow as she possibly could while still technically moving. Deep down, she knew how she wanted this night to end, she just needed to make sure that Jareth was of a similar mind. If she threw herself at him only to be laughed at or rejected, she was sure she’d never recover.

Okay, find out Jareth’s motives for suddenly appearing tonight, then find out if she can get him into her bed without forfeiting her dignity. Easy, right? 

Following the way he’d went earlier, she skirted the dance floor, holding their glasses protectively against her to avoid having them knocked away. It was dark here in that special kind of way most bars were and she was still looking around for Jareth when she happened to catch sight of Laura making a beeline for her. 

Though sweating and red faced from dancing, Sarah was aware that her roommate looked far more put together than she herself felt at the moment. 

With a pointed look at the glasses clutched to Sarah’s chest, Laura simply said, “so.”

“So.” The familiarity of the exchange immediately helped to settle Sarah’s nerves.

“So, I can’t help but notice that you’re holding what appears to be whiskey,” the sly cant to her voice was nothing compared to her shit eating grin, “and if I recall correctly, you hate whiskey.”

Pretending to be surprised, Sarah looked at the drink in shock. “No. Really? Wow.”

“Fine, be that way,” she turned as if to leave but stopped to look over her shoulder, “but keep in mind that if you want me out of the apartment tonight so that you can ‘drink whiskey’ in peace, I better at least get a look at the guy capable of working up your thirst.” 

And with that Laura backed her way into the crowd of dancers behind her, shooting her an encouraging thumbs up as she disappeared. Before Sarah could resume her search, Jareth appeared at her side, hands steadying the glasses she nearly spilled in surprise, then gripping her elbow and leading her to a table in the very corner of the room. 

“Do I even want to know how you managed to get this table?” She asked as he pulled out a chair for her. If there was one thing college kids did better than anyone, it was party and though only a little after ten o’clock, the place was packed.

“Magic,” he supplied noncommittally and Sarah had the distinct impression that she’d asked the wrong question. Frustrated, she slid his drink in front of the chair right next to hers, rolling her eyes when he smiled approvingly. “How kind.”

They were both seated with their backs to the wall, an open view of the dance floor and bar in front of them and only a scant few inches between them. Jareth was wearing slacks of all things and though she could appreciate the beauty of the mortal facade he’d put on, she missed the leather and makeup of their first encounter.

“Like what you see?”

“Not particularly,” she shrugged, “It’s a bit bland compared to what I remember.”

“It wouldn’t do to disappoint.” In the space of a second, the costume disappeared and he was clad in doe skin breeches with a poets shirt open wide at his throat. He leaned back in his chair, wing tipped eyes inviting her to assess the change for herself. “Better, I hope.”

“Much more like the monster I remember.” 

For one tense moment his eyes went flat and humorless but it passed quickly and he was grinning at her once more. “Careful, kitten, you seem to have forgotten that you aren’t the only one with fangs.”

“The difference being that yours are backed by time bending magic, whereas mine are just teeth.” She sipped her water, leveling a stare at him over the rim of the glass. “So, tell me, Goblin King, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Shameful gossip, mostly. Had to investigate.” He crossed his arms behind his head, the picture of ease.

“Is that all it takes these days?”

“For you? Always.” More seriously, he continued, “if there’s something you want to know, just ask. I’d promise I don’t bite but I’d hate to lie to you.”

Ignoring the flirtation, she resolved to speak plainly. “Does this visit comes with any strings I should know about? I don’t want to accidentally enjoy myself and wake up to an invoice.”

Jareth’s face softened and he paused, clearly considering his words. “I understand your mistrust, but I promise that the only thing I am here for is an evening of pleasant company.”

“Not sure why you chose me, then.” She relaxed back into her chair and smiled. Maybe taking him at face value was a mistake but she was having more fun than she’d had any right to expect and the potential for more felt worth the risk. 

“Why indeed,” he replied, his grin widening as the hem of her dress once again skated dangerously up her legs. “Wait, I think I’m starting to remember.”

“Charming,” she deadpanned.

“I should hope so,” he leaned forward, taking the whiskey up in one gloved hand while the other rested on her thigh, fingertips just grazing the underside of her dress, “I’d hate to think I’ve lost my touch.”

Heat flooded her. Any other man attempting the same move would have left her feeling cold. Sarah cursed her traitorous body for confirming six years worth of suspicions so enthusiastically. 

It took an enormous amount of restraint not to just invite him back to her place there and then, but if this turned out to be a one time thing for them, she’d curse herself for letting it be over too quickly. 

As if sensing that her friend was in dire need of an intervention, Laura materialized and took a seat at their table. 

“There you are!” She chirped, planting a loud, smacking kiss on Sarah’s cheek. Then she turned to Jareth, posture and tone turning businesslike. “I’m Laura, best friend, roommate and acting chaperone. Pardon my abruptness, sir, but I must ask, what are your intentions toward my Sarah?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Jareth. And none Sarah would appreciate my saying aloud.”

Ignoring Sarah’s groan, Laura thrust her hand forward and he immediately took it in a firm handshake. “You seem like a good kid, Jareth, I’ll rest easy knowing that she’s in good hands.”

All three of them simultaneously glanced at where his other hand was still creeping scandalously close to Sarah’s panties. Coughing, she crossed her legs, dislodging it to a chorus of laughter from both blonds. 

“So! I’ve got a great reason for interrupting,” Laura promised as she slapped three white cards on the table. “I got a heads up from one of the waiters that they’re about to set up karaoke and I thought we could get our requests in early.” 

“No.”

“I’ll do the dishes for two weeks.”

“Nope.”

“A month?”

It was a tempting offer but, “Not happening.”

“So cold, Sarah, I’m disappointed.” Jareth leaned forward to take one of the cards and the pen Laura offered him. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

There were too many ways to reply to that but any one of them would tip Laura off to their shared history and the last thing she wanted was to field questions about when and where she’d met Jareth. “Oh, y’know how it is,” she thought sarcastically, “he just appeared in my bedroom when I was 15!”

“You’re both terrible people,” she muttered, snatching the pen from Jareth and filling out the card with a heavy hand, careful not to let him see her choice.

“I love you, too, sweet pea!” Laura singsonged, taking the completed cards and dancing away. 

“I like her.” Jareth announced as he watched her go. 

“You would,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Now, now, don’t be childish.”

“And here I was thinking you were into that sort of thing,” she sniped.

There was no warning, he moved so quickly that she only realized he had when she was suddenly in his lap. One arm was curled around her waist, pulling her back firmly to his chest, the other raised to run a gloved hand along her throat.

“You wound me, Sarah,” he husked, his breath warm against her ear. The fingers on her neck ran gently upward until he cupped her jaw. A groan slipped from her, unbidden, but the way he tensed and exhaled heavily against her was galvanizing. Tilting her chin she nipped at his gloved fingers. He pressed them against her lips and she obligingly parted, taking the tip of his index into her mouth and running the flat of her tongue across it. 

She was no blushing maiden, she'd never been one to shake apart at a touch. But that had been before. With Jareth, everything felt new and almost overwhelming. Her skin felt raw.

She wriggled teasingly against him and was rewarded by the hiss of his sharp inhale. His hand slipped from her face and she twisted her head to the side, about to ask if he was done when he surged forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Gone was the pretense of teasing or playfulness. Jareth pressed bruising, hungry kisses into her mouth, moaning when she opened to his tongue. He broke away only to grab her hips, rearranging her so that she sat sideways in his lap, legs raised to drape over the arm of the chair and back cradled by his arm.

Instead of kissing her again he just looked down at her, pupils blown wide and Sarah's stomach twisted at what she saw in his expression. There was undisguisable desperation in the way she fisted her hands in hair, tugging his head down so she could bite punishingly at his lip. Neither noticed that the music had stopped nor did they hear the bored employee announcing that karaoke was starting.

Sarah broke the kiss to ask him to come home with her but was cut off by a familiar voice blaring across the bar’s sound system.

“This one goes out to my roommate for kicking me out of the apartment tonight so she can get laid!”

The song was Man-eater.


	2. End of an Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that earns the fic it's Explicit rating, enough said.

“Fantastic.” She groused as Laura’s voice warbled enthusiastically from every corner.

The moment was over, the shroud of lust quickly dissipating from her thoughts. Sarah wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or disappointed.

“I agree,” Jareth murmured, ignoring her sarcasm, his lips brushing her shoulder. Neither the caterwauling nor Sarah’s reaction doing anything to diminish his interest. “No doubt all the more so when you’re called to the stage next.”

Oh. Somewhere between landing in his lap and the feeling of his mouth, it had slipped her mind. “It could just as easily be you.”

“Mmm, I doubt it” Jareth hummed against her skin, speaking between the kisses he lay there. “I’d have had to fill out the card for that to happen.”

“Cheater,” she accused, pushing him away with a hand to his forehead. “There’s no way I’m getting on that stage.”

He wrapped a hand around her wrist, the leather warm on her skin, and pulled her hand down to cup his face. “I was so looking forward to it, though.”

“Then you shouldn’t have admitted to tricking me into it.” Despite her childhood ambitions of acting, she’d never been particularly confident in her singing and she had no intention of humiliating herself just to entertain him now.

“I suppose I’ll manage,” he replied mischievously. “Not least of all because there’s no longer any reason for us to stay.”

Without any further warning, he swept her into a bridal carry and stood up, walking them a few short steps and depositing her gently on her feet. For the second time that night, he’d used his inhuman strength and speed to manhandle her too quickly for her to even protest.

With a start, she realized that they were now in the living room of her apartment and it sent a wave of vertigo barreling through her. Jareth pressed a hand to her elbow, trying to steady her but she swatted him away. The dizziness passed quickly, but instead of relief it left only fury in its wake. She turned on him wordlessly and his boyish grin faltered in the face of her rage.

He’d been pleased with his little trick, no doubt, probably thought it charming, but the look she leveled on him was anything but impressed.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, your highness,” the formal title dripped acid, “do not ever use magic on me, for me or in any way that affects me. Ever.” He made as if to respond but she cut him off with a raised hand. “Non-negotiable. If you can’t live with it then leave.”

And with that she left him to the decision, marching down the hallway to her bedroom and turning her desk lamp on as the door slammed shut behind her .It was only after she’d fumbled the zipper on her dress a third time that she realized her hands were shaking. It only made her angrier.

He’d scared her. Dropping his glamour in the bar had been one thing but actively using his magic on her? It had genuinely frightened her. And she hated him for it. Hated that with one selfish gesture he’d reminded her how easily he could turn her world upside down.

And how little she could do to prevent it.

Breathing deeply, she willed her hands to still and bit by bit they did.

Both her shoes and dress came off easily this time and she changed gratefully into her pajamas, a baggy t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts. Several minutes had passed since she’d left Jareth in the living room but she didn’t hurry, opting instead to brush her hair and remove her makeup. Routine helped, made it easier to let go of the panic and anger.

It was with a renewed sense of both confidence and calm that she returned to the living room. He was still there, though he now lounged on the sofa, everything about him incongruous with the second hand furniture of her home. Sarah stopped just inside the room and they regarded each other appraisingly.

His arms were draped across the back of the couch and he’d propped his boots on the coffee table, the picture of ease. The nonchalance was so blatantly forced that it ruined the effect, though. It reminded her of when she’d accidentally broken a window as a child. The shattering glass had been deafening but she’d continued to play, hoping that if she pretended hard enough that nothing had happened, she could somehow avoid the consequences.

It wasn’t in him to outright apologize but at least he was aware that he’d made a mistake. The knowledge helped sooth the last traces of anger from her.

For his part, his face was unreadable except for a slight tick of his eyebrow when he noticed that she hadn’t bothered to put on a bra beneath the baggy shirt. He was smart enough not to say anything about it, amazingly.

“Would you like anything to eat or drink?” she offered, but he shook his head. “Ready to talk, then?”

“Not particularly,” he sighed, but he lowered his legs from the table, adopting a more attentive stance.

She moved to sit beside him on the couch, just out of arms reach. “I meant what I said before. You can’t use magic with me.”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he insisted.

“Intentions don’t matter, not about this. You get that right?” She needed him to understand. “I didn’t exactly leave the Underground as enamored with magic as I was going in.”

Something flickered across his expression, face tightening for a moment before being schooled back into neutrality. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sarah nodded. It was likely the best she could expect from him. “I’ve moved past what happened for the most part, I like to think. Tried to learn from my mistakes. Still, I don’t think I’ll ever want magic back in my life.”

“Magic is a part of me, Sarah. There can’t be one without the other.”

“I have faith that you can manage an ‘evening of pleasant company’ without needing to bend the laws of the nature.” A playful smile crossed his face so she hastily amended, “The laws of nature us lowly humans are stuck with, I mean.”

“I suppose I can,” he conceded.

Sarah had never been able to talk to anyone about her time in the labyrinth, not if she ever wanted to be taken seriously, and it was strange to have the opportunity suddenly available to her. Strange but not unwelcome. “Right before the end, before I left, you told you wanted three things from me, do you remember?”

“I asked you to fear me, to love me and to do as I say,” he answered almost instantly, as if that moment had also been on his mind. Again, that shadow of emotion she couldn’t identify was there and gone in a flash. Was it anger? Regret? “You denied me all three.”

“You got closer than you think,” she offered, smiling at his puzzled look. “What I mean is that while I’m not afraid of you as a person, I am afraid of your magic. The fact that the two are inextricable makes it a bit complicated.”

“And the other two?”

“I’ve never been in love with anyone,” she admitted, surprised at how easy it was to say. So much about the world seemed to be about falling in love and the heartbreak that inevitably followed. It had been easier to keep her lack of experience in the matter a secret rather than subject herself to the inevitable pity and condolences. “Human or otherwise.”

“It doesn’t seem like I was close at all, then.” No trace of pity, no reassurance that surely one day she’d fall in love, Sarah realized he was easy to talk to precisely because he wasn’t of her world. Who was the Goblin King to shame others for not fitting in, after all.

“I may not love you but I want you.” And she knew he wanted her. “I haven’t exactly played that card close too the chest. And as far as the obedience thing, well, I haven’t met anyone yet capable of making me heel, so don’t feel too bad.”

“It’ll have to do, then,” he conceded with a wistful smile. “I suppose two out of three isn’t so bad, even if the results were a bit botched.”

A companionable silence fell between them and Sarah was glad to see that they’d both relaxed considerably since her less than positive reaction to his teleportation act. Of all the twists and turns her evening had taken, the most enjoyable surprise by far had been how much she actually enjoyed talking to Jareth.

“What a strange night,” she mused, turning to rest her legs across his lap.

“Not exactly what I was expecting, either.”

“Pray tell, o mighty Goblin King, what exactly were you expecting to happen when you decided to appear in that bar?” As she spoke, she took one of his hands in hers and removed his glove, placing it on the coffee table.

“Nothing too extraordinary,” he replied, offering her his other hand and she repeated the process. “Some bickering, possibly arguing and, if things had gone well, the opportunity to remove your dress with my teeth.”

“Well I’m not putting the dress back on,” she informed him. Gloves discarded, she was enjoying getting to inspect his hands. Turning the one she held this way and that, she admired smooth skin and slender fingers that belied the incredible strength she knew he was capable of. Strength she still had every intention of putting to good use. “Would you settle for a t-shirt?”

“I can try,” he sighed playfully but when she looked up his eyes were anything but.

“No magic?” It was her only deal breaker in this scenario and she wanted to make that clear.

“No magic,” he promised, pressing his hand to his heart. “Though that means you’ll be cleaning up the glitter yourself.”

“What glitter?” she demanded, turning to look and hoping against hope that he was only joking. He was not. Ground into a huge swath of carpet, right where they’d appeared from the bar, was a mess of the stuff. It would no doubt linger for months and just the thought of what a pain it would be to deal with had her kicking at his legs in irritation. “It follows you like a disease, Jareth, what the actual hell?”

“Hazard of the job, I’m afraid.” He grabbed her ankles when she reared back to kick him again and used the grip to pull her toward him across the couch. “The devilish good looks are all me, though.”

How she was attracted to him was beyond her and she said as much as she threw herself back to lie against the cushions, hair fanning out around her.

“Easily and with great enthusiasm,” he purred teasingly. The couch dipped and groaned beneath her as Jareth crawled slowly up her body. A warm hand pushed her shirt up, the fabric bunching beneath her breasts and he lay light, barely there kisses on her stomach, steadily working his way upwards.

When he reached her breasts he paused, letting her anticipation build, before bypassing them entirely to bring his lips to the underside of her chin.

“You’re shameless,” she huffed, frustrated.

“Coming from the woman not bothering to wear a bra.” He punctuated the taunt by pinching one of her nipples through the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Sarah tried to press into the contact but he moved too quickly, burying his hand in her hair instead.

He was crouched fully over her now, the only contact between them the hand on her head and his knee pressed between her thighs, just shy of where she wanted it. Everything about the position was designed to torture her. Reaching behind him, she grabbed the loose fabric of his shirt and tried to pull him against her but he didn’t budge no matter how much she tried. All the while his face hovered above her, watching her efforts with a knowing smile.

“Jareth.”

“Yes, sweet Sarah?” God, he was infuriating. Her body was flushed already, arousal building with barely a touch from him and he knew it, enjoyed it. Relished the way she burned for him.

“Touch me,” she commanded, voice dark. She would not beg. At least not in words, she amended mentally, aware of the way her heart pounded and her hips shifted subtly.

She’d half expected him to balk at the order but was pleasantly surprised to find him compliant. Lowering himself, he pressed his body against hers and, finally, he kissed her.

Jareth started slowly, only a gentle press of his lips to hers, his thumb stroking her cheek as the warmth of their bodies mingled. Within minutes though he was pulling at her lip with his teeth, opening her, goading her, demanding that she give him everything even as he took it. And she did. Enthusiastically.

Her previous experiences had left her thinking of sex as a very predictable sport. Everyone knew the same four moves that they moved through mechanically and foreplay was tolerated for its necessity but never prioritized over getting to the finish line. There was always kissing and fondling, occasionally a reluctant offer to go down on her but mostly just a hurried attempt to get her pants off.

Jareth either hadn’t read the play book or just chose to ignore it, more than happy to take his time dismantling her.

Sarah writhed beneath him, loving the full body friction of it even as she desperately sought more. She pulled him closer with hands that darted restlessly from his hair to his shoulders, her nails catching at his shirt as she raked them down his back. Pushing a hand between them, he pressed under shirt and palmed her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

And through it he never stopped kissing her, his breath hot on her face as he moved to nibble the shell of her ear then drifted downward to her neck. The sucking, biting kisses he began to lay along her throat nearly shattered her and she bucked helplessly. Against her stomach she could feel the hard, heavy length of him twitch in response.

“Ah, Jareth,” she moaned, breath catching. There was no pretense, no chance of playing coy, her thoughts were too scattered, her body an aching mess. She ground her thighs together, her shorts a mess of slick fabric that did nothing to soothe the throbbing need she felt.

Jareth pulled off her throat with a wet pop, whispering filthy reassurances as he shifted to work his thigh against her. Gratefully she rocked against the taut muscle of him, not caring what sounds she made, only aware that she needed more.

The creaking protests of the couch broke through the haze of lust making her remember that she had a perfectly good bed just down the hall. She tried to communicate this to Jareth, pressing at his shoulders to get his attention. He resisted at first, still intent on marking every inch of her neck but relented when she kept pushing, allowing just enough space between them to look at her questioningly.

“Bed,” she said by way of explanation, trying to wriggle out from under him. He didn’t move and Sarah suspected that he was debating the merits of stopping long enough to move to a better surface versus just continuing on the couch.

It must not have been a difficult decision because a second later he was standing and she yelped as he tossed her effortlessly across his shoulder and started down the hall.

“You’re a brute,” she called over her shoulder, laughing as she lay a resounding slap across the delightful ass swaying directly in her face.

“You’ll pay for that,” he promised, tossing her onto her bed, the mattress shaking under the force of her landing.

Propping herself on her elbows she groaned at the sight of Jareth pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion. “God, I hope so,” she choked.

He shot her a wink, hands going to the laces of his breeches as he toed off his boots. A part of her knew that she should also be undressing but if this was her only chance to see Jareth strip she refused to miss it. He was lithe but solid, fit in a way she associated with trained dancers. The muscles of his arms and shoulders shifted as he untied his laces and like everything he did, there was an effortless grace to his movements that she envied.

He stopped just short of actually removing them, thumbs hooked in the waist, and looked expectantly at her. Oh. He wanted her to take them off for him.

“Well, if you insist,” she said, feigning sarcasm. Lacking his inhuman coordination she opted not to try to make her crawl to the foot of the bed a show. She sat on the edge, her face upturned to his as she took his hips in hand and pulled him to stand between her open legs. His pupils were blown wide, his kiss reddened lips slightly parted and the way he watched her was intense enough to send another wave of heat through her.

It felt good to be wanted. It felt a thousand times better, Sarah was learning, when you wanted that person just as badly.

She kept her eyes on his as long as she could as she lowered her face to him, losing sight of them when she ran her tongue up the tempting expanse of skin before her. A hand dropped to cradle the back of her head, fingers carding through then tightening in her hair as she bit at the jut of his hip.

She continued to move her mouth across him, sucking and biting, determined to mark him as thoroughly as he had her neck. As she worked she circled her arms around him, one hand at the small of his back, the other gripping the curve of his ass. Pulling his hips flush against her she gave him a particularly cruel bite. Her back was arched, her breasts pressed to him and she felt as much as heard his groan as he thrust his straining cock against her.

“You are entirely too clothed,” he hissed and she chuckled in agreement, dragging her nails down his back and pulling another low sound from him before leaning back and taking off her shirt. Before she could get her hands back on him, Jareth pushed her back against the mattress, pulling her shorts and underwear off in one rough motion. “Much better.”

She lay bare before him, nipples hard as cool air washed over her too hot skin. Still bracketed between her knees Jareth’s eyes roved every inch of her hungrily and she shamelessly spread her legs, fingers dipping to tease her slick folds under his sharp gaze. She was more than ready for him, impatient now to feel him inside her.

There was nothing teasing about him now as he shucked his pants and Sarah groaned to see his cock bob heavily, head flushed and beaded with precum. She felt a brief moment of regret at not having the chance to take him in her mouth but that thought, along with any other, was driven out of her as Jareth grabbed her hips and pushed her roughly up the bed, crawling after her with clear intent.

“Come on,” she breathed, canting her hips upward and clawing at his shoulders when he thrust himself in to the hilt in one hard push. She didn’t give either of them a chance to savor the moment, just wrapped her legs around him and urged him with words and hands to move.

As if Jareth had ever needed encouragement to seek his own pleasure. The pace he set was brutal, head bent and breathing rough as he thrust into her over and over. Sarah braced one hand against her headboard and tangled the other in his hair, tugging hard to bring his mouth to hers so she could cry her pleasure into his mouth between kisses.

One of his hands gripped her ass, tilting her at just the right angle to let him bottom out on nearly every stroke. Hours of flirting, of touching and kissing and skirting just short of this moment had them both breathing hard, chasing their own pleasure. Desperate to find it, Sarah reached between their bodies, fingers pressing through her soaked curls to work her clit.

She was close, so close and Jareth groaned to feel her walls flutter around him at the rapid approach of her climax. He tore his lips from hers and buried his face in her neck, biting hard at the bruised skin there. It was painful, just shy of too much, but an exquisite contrast to the imminent orgasm that loomed over her.

Then Jareth growled, the low, feral sound vibrating through the teeth buried in her throat and it sent her over the edge. She shuddered, back bowing reflexively as waves of pleasure tore through her. He was close, chasing desperately after her, his hips stuttering as her body clenched and held him. Over stimulated and shaking, ripples of her orgasm still pulsing hard through her, she reached for him and tried to coax his release from him with kisses and shaking hands.

A handful of thrusts later it hit him. He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes clenched shut, and she saw his lips moving, words she couldn’t make out pouring from him as he shuddered through it. Bit by bit the tension eased from him and he lowered his body to hers, both of them sweaty and panting in the aftermath.

Eventually, Jareth pulled himself from inside her with a groan and settled onto his back, pulling her along so that she lay curled against his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. “You are exhausting,” he muttered affectionately, carding his hand through her damp hair.

“You were alright,” she teased, chuckling tiredly when he tugged at her hair in retaliation. “Well, I can’t exactly tell you the truth, can I? I’m not sure the Underground could survive your ego being any more inflated.”

“I’m the one who has to survive them,” he corrected haughtily. Sarah lifted her head to give him an incredulous look. Jareth pointed to his collar bone where a thin scar she hadn’t noticed before ran nearly to his shoulder. “Assassination attempt. Only a few months after I took the throne.”

She traced the thin line of raised skin with a finger. “You probably deserved it.”

“All I did was forbid them from bringing chickens into the castle,” he huffed, indignant.

“You definitely deserved it, then,” she amended, grinning at him.

“Insufferable,” he accused, dropping his head to the sheets.

“Incorrigible,” she countered, settling back against his chest.

“I prefer insatiable.”

“Well, I am tapped out for now,” she mumbled, exhaustion catching up with her. Who knew the Goblin King would make for such a comfortable pillow. “But I wouldn’t mind doing this again if you can find some time between wrangling chickens.”

Already half asleep, she didn’t notice the way he paused before replying. “If I can’t, I can always just make more.”

“We should do karaoke with Laura,” she told him, words barely audible around a yawn. “Since we ditched her tonight.”

If Jareth answered, she never heard it, asleep almost as soon as she’d finished speaking.

When Sarah awoke in the morning, she was alone in bed and the sheets had been pulled around her. Lying atop them, where Jareth had been the night before, was an envelope with her name scrawled across it in looping script. The sound of a throat being cleared made her turn and she saw that Laura was standing in her open doorway, arms crossed and looking incredibly too energetic.

“So?” she asked, grinning.

“So,” Sarah groaned, still half asleep and in no mode for her roommate’s blinding cheeriness.

“So, I have a million questions,” Laura chirped, ignoring Sarah’s aggrieved sigh. “But, because I love you ever so much, I’m only going to ask one.”

“Good,” Sarah groused, barely listening. She tore the envelope open, much more interested in the note he’d left for her.

It was short and simply said:

Dearest Sarah,

Did you know that you snore? It’s surprisingly robust but I find it charming, nonetheless.

As to your karaoke suggestion, I'd be delighted to accompany you and your roommate. All you have to do is call.

-J

“Oi, Sarah!” Laura shouted, snapping her fingers repeatedly and startling Sarah back to attention. “Why the fuck is the living room full of fucking glitter?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! This marks my first fic in almost 9 years and I appreciate you giving it a read.
> 
> I really like how this chapter turned out and if you enjoyed reading it half as much as I did writing it, consider dropping a kudos. Then again, I've been grappling with an incredibly intense bout of insomnia so if it turns out that this chapter is incomprehensible gibberish, I am very very sorry.
> 
> I already have ideas for follow up stories in this universe, specifically for the karaoke rain check and a halloween encounter, but I'll probably try my hand at a different story unless there's demand for more from this one.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I know, no actual smut until next chapter, I'm sorry. This was written in one session with no beta so sorry for mistakes.


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